Part One

Author Notes: Many thanks to krazyredhead0317 and Kyrie for their beta help! I love Hermione/Rabastan, so I just couldn't resist writing this for the HP Rare_Cliche Valentine's Day fest on LJ. It's a two part story and I hope you all enjoy.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

**Part One**

Hermione stirred in her sleep. She awoke, but didn't open her eyes. She didn't want to. Her body ached all over, and she knew she was a bit hungover after last night's celebration. The Ministry gala celebrating the five-year anniversary of the end of the war at the Battle of Hogwarts had started boringly, but after a few drinks, Hermione had begun to enjoy herself. In fact, she vaguely remembered meeting a man.

She rolled over, eyes still closed. Her body was sore, but it wasn't a painful sore. In fact, she felt as if she had enjoyed a bout of rather rough sex.

But that would just be crazy, she thought to herself, silently laughing. There's no way the "Great War Heroine Hermione Granger" would get drunk and sleep with someone. That would just be absurd. She stretched her legs across the sheets....

And they touched something solid.

Her eyes flew open, and she found herself staring into a pair of blue-grey eyes.

"Good morning," he greeted her, a smirk on his face. "Sleep well?"

She abruptly sat up, not quite sure what to say. The rush of cool air alerted her to the fact that she was naked. Hermione let out a screech as she tumbled off the bed, pulling the covers with her and trying to cover her nakedness.

"Who are you?" she demanded to know, her eyes darting about the room for her wand. Blast it! Where was that stupid thing?

"Your wand is on the table," the man answered, pointing to the other side of the room. "And you can relax, kitten. I'm not gonna hurt you." He stood, stretching his arms above his head as he yawned.

Hermione tried to avert her eyes, as he was naked too, but she couldn't. Despite him being a stranger, she couldn't help the small jolt of desire that coursed through her body. He was lean and built and his cock was, well... large.

The man smirked at her before waggling his eyebrows. "Care for another go, kitten? We had such a fun time last night."

Hermione refocused on the task at hand. She summoned her wand silently and pointed it at him. "I'll ask you again," she said, trying to sound menacing. "What is your name?" Her heart raced in her chest, and she couldn't stop herself from freaking out. Tears pricked at the corner of her eyes.

He held his hands up in mock surrender. "You can put your wand away, Hermione, you don't need it. I'm not going to hurt you. My name is Rabastan, and I'm a bit miffed that you don't remember it. You certainly didn't seem that drunk last night."

"Rabastan?" She fell silent as she processed his first name. After a moment, her eyes widened. "Rabastan Lestrange?" Hermione asked, her voice going up an octave. "Sweet Nimue, what have I done?"

"Well, we danced and flirted at the gala, and then you invited yourself to my hotel room," he explained, looking around the room for his clothing. He found his undergarments and pulled them on. "Shall I order breakfast?"

"Breakfast?" Hermione asked. "How can you be so calm about this?"

"How can you not be?" Rabastan countered. "So we slept together; what's the big deal? I don't understand why you're freaking out."

"If sleeping around isn't bad enough, it just had to be you!" Hermione huffed. She, too, looked around for her bra and knickers.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" Rabastan snapped angrily.

His words caused Hermione to stop her search and look at him.

"Me? What? Because I used to be a Death Eater?" When Hermione didn't respond, he let out a laugh. "Oh, that's rich! The Golden Girl who is always preaching justice and equality is being prejudiced." He shook his head. "I thought you were different from your little friends."

Hermione was miffed. "I am different! I don't hold a grudge like my friends do. I have no qualms about Death Eaters, past or present."

"Then what's the big deal?"

"I don't do this!" Hermione cried, the tears coming freely. "I'm not a slag. I don't get drunk and sleep with random men!"

Rabastan's expression softened. "Hermione, I don't think you're a slag." He walked over and hugged her. He was mindful to keep the blanket wrapped around her tightly as he didn't want to upset her more. "Don't cry... To be honest, I'm not quite sure what to do with a crying woman."

She sniffled, looking up at him. "I am a slag, though. Oh, what are the papers going to say?"

"Since when do you care what the paper says?" Rabastan asked. "What happened to the fiery girl I met last night?"

"I was drunk!" she protested. "I'm not usually so forward with men."

Rabastan looked at her. "You weren't as drunk as you think you were." He shook his head. "Are you done freaking out?"

"Not really," Hermione answered honestly, stepping away from him. "I... I need to get dressed. I have to get to work." Looking around the room, she spotted her undergarments and the dress she wore last night. She grabbed both quickly and headed into the bathroom.

Hermione tried to calm her racing thoughts as she freshened up and got dressed. She couldn't believe she had asked him to take her back to his hotel room. Her memories were coming back, and that meant she was reliving every detail.

And damn, last night was certainly the best bout of sex she had ever gotten.

Just thinking about it was getting her all worked up.

Stop, Hermione. You need to get dressed and get out of here. There's no use in lingering.

She used her wand to tame her wild curls and sighed. This was a mess. The whole situation was a mess. And now she had to do the walk of shame.

Walking out of the bathroom, she saw Rabastan was dressed in a nice suit. She recognized it as a Muggle brand, which momentarily surprised her.

"I've left the Pureblood shite behind me," Rabastan said. "I've also ordered us breakfast."

"I can't," Hermione said, shaking her head. "I've got to get to work."

"Well, at least take something for the road," he insisted, gesturing at the platter of pastries.

Hermione hesitated before reaching forward and taking a buttery croissant. She wrapped it up in a napkin. "Rabastan, I'm sorry about last night."

"I'm not." He arched his brow at her. "We have some serious chemistry, Hermione. I'd be more than happy to see you again. I'll even take you out on a real date."

She was startled by his words. He wanted to see her again? She quickly shook her head. "No, I'm sorry, but, no... That's just completely out of the question."

Rabastan smirked. He handed her a small piece of paper. "Well, in case you ever change your mind, feel free to owl or Floo call me." He then took her hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it, which caused Hermione's stomach to flutter excitedly.

Hermione pulled away and slipped into her black pumps. "Goodbye, Rabastan." She slipped out the door before either of them could say anything else. She was more than eager to put this awkward morning out of her mind.

By noontime, Hermione was fed up. She sat at her office desk, papers scattered around her. There was plenty of work to be done, but she couldn't focus on any of it. Unfortunately, her mind was still stuck on Rabastan.

"Just write him," her co-worker, Krystle, moaned.

"What?" Hermione asked, turning a deep shade of red.

"Whomever you're thinking about, just owl him or something. I'm sick of you looking like a conflicted sap over there," Krystle said, sticking her tongue out to tease her friend.

Hermione sighed. It seemed that, despite her awkwardness and terror this morning about what had happened last night, she really did want to see Rabastan again. To be fair, he had been a complete gentleman in the morning.

Perhaps he's not that bad after all...

Grabbing a pen, she quickly wrote him a note. She called over one of the office owls and handed the bird the letter. "Off you go."

"There," Krystle said from her desk. "Now we can focus on getting this paperwork done so Percy doesn't kill us for not finishing this report."

Hermione nodded. Percy could be a pain at times. Still, as she sat down at her desk, Hermione couldn't help the butterflies in her stomach.

She'd be having a date soon.

Rabastan opened the letter and grinned.

Rabastan,

Hermione

Turns out attending the Ministry gala wasn't as big of a waste of time as he had thought it'd been. He smirked. He had a date to plan.